


The Good Doctor

by coplins



Series: Packrunners [24]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Cheating, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Relationship Problems, Scent Marking, Scenting, Scents & Smells
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 13:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15219683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins
Summary: Back in college Dick made friends with a med-student that today is a renowned doctor, famous for his research in scentlessness - specifically congential depression. Dick's been having an affair with him since then and also let him use Dick for his studies. They've met up several times a month so Sebastian, the doctor, can monitor Dick's health and have a romp in the hay. Today Dick makes a shocking discovery and seeks out Sebastian for help.





	The Good Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by my awesome Beta [YouCantKeepMeDown](http://archiveofourown.org/users/YouCantKeepMeDown). Any remaining mistakes are my own.

In hindsight, he'll feel stupid for not noticing right away. It should have been obvious. But he'd given up hope long ago. The very thought that it could happen has been deemed impossible. So he should be excused for being slow on the uptake.

For now he just feels inexplicably happy and calm. He putters around the apartment tidying up, humming to himself. Everything smells so damned nice and he finds himself rubbing his temple against furniture and cupboards, not to mark them up (for obvious reasons) but to transfer more of the scent to himself. Oddly enough he thinks his surroundings smell even better the more he does it. Twice he goes back to bed to soak in the scent of the sheets.

While he's always enjoyed Dean's scent since they met, he can't remember having this kind of reaction to another Omega before. Maybe it has to do with the pack bond? Repeatedly, his thoughts drift to Henry and even Laurent. He's barely thought of either for years. He reasons that a Main must have the same chemical alterations as a Patriarch and that's why he's suddenly longing for the two Alphas that are long since dead and gone, one of which he barely got to know.

His Heat is still bothering him and he reminds himself to eat. In the kitchen he stops to stare at the leftovers of the meal Dean prepared for him and something warm glows inside of him. His phone rings. It's Crowley. His good mood falters.

“Hello, dear.”

“Hi, darling. I just called to say I'll be a couple of days late.”

Dick frowns. ”Oh? What’s your excuse this time?”

“Something came up that I have to see to.”

Dick scoffs. “You’ve been gone for two fucking months, Crowl. I’m beginning to wonder why I even claim to be mated to you. Maybe you shouldn’t bother to come home at all.”

“Don’t start this again. I travel for work, love. It’s my blasted _job_.”

Dick hums uninterestedly. “You could ask for a permanent position here and you’d get it. But no. You leave me looking like a fool claiming to be mated every time you let the bond fade.”

“I’ve told you, love, if you retire I’ll ask for a permanent―”

Dick flares angrily, teething his canines. “You know I’m not _actually_ a Conservative. So can stop entertaining the thought of me acting like a subservient, Conservative house-O you can show off as a prize. I will not quit my job to make you look good.” Dick strides angrily from the kitchen to pace randomly in the apartment. His nose stings with the scent of anger. They’ve had this argument many times. They’ve had all their arguments many times by now. It had come creeping a couple of years ago when Crowley had left for a business trip and Dick got stuck staring at the cork lying beside the toothpaste tube while toothpaste had smeared on the basin it lay on in the bathroom. Normally he’d just screw it on and wash the smear away without thinking about it but that day he’d been boiling inside from annoyance. They played at being a monogamous Conservative couple because both of them had benefited from it. But a truly romantic spark had never flared between them. Instead the years had made some of what was there fade. Dick still loves Crowley and would easily risk his own life for him. It's just that some nights he felt like digging his claws into Crowley's throat while he slept, and _rip_. The problem is that Dick wants romance. Crowley has mostly stopped making an effort on that front, devoting himself to his work. The sex is still good, they still protect each other loyally and love each other as friends. But whatever needs they have their mateship no longer fulfills it as well as it used to. That led to a resentment that led to this. They bicker, jabbing at weak spots decades of being each other's trustees had revealed. Nobody could be a worse enemy than your best friend. Dick would stomp on Crowley's insecurities about his physical shortcomings and his fear of abandonment and Crowley would jab at Dick’s inability to attract Alphas, lost or unreciprocated loves, as well as the mortal danger a pregnancy put him in.

“Darling, we both know you've reached as far as you can by now. You wanted to get rich. It's time you lean back and enjoy your riches.” As if that’s Crowley’s motivation.

“Tssk. I'm enjoying them fine as it is. And I like my work, dear.” Crowley doesn’t get it. Dick’s aimed to be able to _afford_ to do and buy what he wants. He hadn’t aimed to actually do and own things. Crowley’s been pushing him to retire. It would elevate Crowley’s status further, showing influential Conservatives that he could afford to provide for a high status Omega all by himself. And if riches and luxury was all Dick was after, that could definitely be the next step. But Dick likes power and how people treat him in a work setting. It negates people’s reaction to his scentlessness.

“Oh, _please_. You just hover around the office to pine. It's pathetic,” Crowley jabs. He’s not completely wrong. Dick’s still pining. Working side by side with Raphael came with the perk of being swept up in his scent on a weekly basis. Which is more often than he got to enjoy Crowley’s scent lately.

“Hardly. But it would take a better reason than unrequited love to quit my job.”

“You're not going to suggest having a kit again, are you?”

“Certainly not with _you_. I'd choose a _real_ Alpha. Big, strong, powerful… with a huge knot that can do more than just tickle a bit.” Once. Once while drunk years ago he’d suggested it. Long before they’d started fighting. A kit. They’d been on top of the world - good jobs, making enough money that each would have been able to provide for a family on their own, savings in the bank so they could take a year off both at the same time if needed, contacts to make sure the kit could go in the best schools, and a happy, loving home to grow up in. ‘Let’s say you don’t die from expecting, do you really think I’ve waited this long for Balt’s kits to grow up just to get stuck with one of my own so _he’d_ have to wait?’ was Crowley’s response. ‘Balt can come live with us,” Dick had suggested. ‘Do I seem like Packrunning garbage to you, love?’ No. Crowley wasn’t up for a permanent polyamorous relationship.

That hurt on many levels. Because when Balt came over to stay with them they still were a happy family, the three of them. The fights subsided. Dick would have been a very happy O if that was how they wound up. But Crowley had started to get possessive of the both of them while at the same time not wanting to share them with each other. When Dick leaned back to evaluate the behaviour from a neutral standpoint he understood that it was the fear of abandonment acting up. A fear that Balt would choose Dick and leave Crowley. In conclusion, Crowley’s an idiot. Balt is as smitten with Crowley as he’s ever been.

“Why don't you just say his name, darling? Lucifer wasn't interested in you back then and he isn't now. He never will be. You're too bloody broken for him.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Things happen while you’re away…” Dick purrs with a nasty smirk on his lips. Things, being Lucifer pushing him against a wall with his nose pressed against Dick’s throat where Dean had left markings. Now _that’s_ how you negotiate a raise!

Dick might have minimized his private interaction with the Williams family a long time ago, but at work he still had… ‘moments’. Small lapses where their past shone through, keeping them at friend status instead of just employee and employer. Early mornings when Dick came in before everyone else just to find Luci doing an all nighter at the office in preparation for a big case. Luci would be tired and more often enough having forgotten to remove the reading glasses that he doesn’t want anyone to know about but he needs when his eyes get grainy. Dick would remove them and put them in Luci’s breast pocket then fix Luci’s hair or adjust his clothing while they talked in low voices until Luci smelled content and pleased. Moments when he was discussing the budget with Mike when they’d veer off into friendly teasing, bumping each other with a hip, standing too close while making references to plays and musicals. Moments when Gabe forgot that it’s unprofessional to greet a subservient colleague by galloping through a corridor to leap up onto his back while yelling ‘Hell yeah! Dick ridin’!’. Dick loves Gabe for still treating him like his personal jungle gym after all these years, despite Dick’s attempt to distance himself. Moments when Dick wants to dose the world in gasoline and flick a match because Raff is silently and stoically suffering through a rough day, but instead he reaches out to hold Raff’s hand under the table in silent support during a meeting. Rare moments when he goes down to the pyre with handwritten letters to Aiden that he burns on the pyre to tell the former Patriarch all the things he failed to say while he was alive.

Crowley’s partially right. Dick holds onto his position at the office to pine. At least Marlon no longer is there to add to his cherished suffering. He leaves the ruling of the company to his sons and only shows up on rare occasions.

“You didn’t let in a strange Alpha into our apartment again, did you?” Crowley says breaking him out of his bittersweet train of thoughts.

“ _Our_ apartment? More like the place I let you stay during your rare stopovers in town. You’re of so little use it’s no wonder your mother sold you.”

_Ouch._ Dick winces at his own words and waits for the retaliation―usually something to do with Aiden or the Europeans―but it never comes. Instead… “How's your health? I can be at home in 6 hours if I pull some strings.”

This is why they're still together. Even in the middle of a fight both of them will, and have, dropped everything to come for the other. Dick sighs. “I'm fine, dear. I just miss you when you're gone. Why will you be late?”

“The Danby company. They decided to go through with the lawsuit. Bloody Packrunners. No sense of self-preservation.”

“Make sure they know they're up against another pack. That might change their tone if they realize what kind of turf war they're heading into.”

“You're the expert,” Crowley mutters. He's quiet for a beat then hesitantly asks “How long did it take for the bond to fade this time?”

“Four days.” Slightly less even. He lost his mating bond more quickly each time Crowley left. That’s become a problem this last year. Sebastian suggested it’s wanderlust creeping. Dick’s not sure since it feels nothing like when the Hales killed his Europeans. He doesn't like to think it is.

“ _Bollocks_! You should have told me, love. I could have shipped you new sheets much sooner.”

“I had someone mark the apartment up,” Dick tells him, making Crowley believe he’s been surrounded by strong scent all the time, not just before his homecoming.

“So you _did_ let a strange Alpha in. Did you let him fuck you too?” Crowley growls, concern turning into disgust.

Dick studies his nails on one hand. “Yes. I let him fuck me. And he's an Omega, actually,” he answers offhandedly.

“An Omega?” Crowley's tone turns positive. “You should invite him over when I come home,” he purrs. “We can have some fun the three of us.”

Dick wonders if Dean would be up for that? Crowley isn't jealous of Omegas despite knowing Dick's had a serious relationship with one back in college. Crowley simply can't imagine Dick would choose an Omega before an Alpha. If they’d be talking a long-term, monogamous relationship, neither can Dick.

But Dick doesn't care about the gender or sex. At this point he'd settle for someone who is _there_. He shot himself in the foot by lying about how it affected his general health and mood when bonds fade but he’d rather die than be caught in the lie.

“I’ll see. He might not be interested. I’m going to hang up now. Call me when you need me to pick you up from the airport. If you call about another delay I swear it, I’ll change the locks.”

“I won’t. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Dick makes a kissy noise then hangs up. Honestly? He's not surprised at the delay. He's barely disappointed, mostly mad. He knows Crowley isn't fooling him about the reason for the delay but it still peeves him. He's fairly certain that he could manipulate Mike into changing Crowley's assignments so he’ll get permanently stationed here. But Crowley revels at his current position - travelling around the States to breeze into offices and untangling messes like a magician while smirking smugly at the locals that failed. If he’d be stationed here he’d be doing the same thing as Lucifer and would no longer be the star of the show. Dick started lying about his scentlessness to protect what he values the most - his freedom of choice. He loves and respects Crowley too much to go behind his back to remove his right to the same thing.

He paces the apartment and stops by the kitchen doorpost where Dean had marked it up and rubs his temple against the spot. It smells so good that he puts his nose against the spot he just rubbed and inhales deeply through his nose for several minutes, anger and annoyance evaporating more with every breath. The apartment has never smelled as good before. He thinks he can use Crowley’s delay to stock up the pantry. Perhaps prepare to make some fancy dinner and pick out a nice wine to go with it? He likes the days when Crowley comes home after being away for a long period the best. They spend rather intense days reaffirming their bond and sitting tangled up together with a glass of wine or whiskey talking for hours, updating each other on their lives. He perks up considerably thinking of what’s ahead.

He’s sweating and his skin feels itchy from his Heat. He’s leaking slick and considers if he should put in a plug before he leaves the house. He decides against it and goes to fetch his wallet and keys.

* * *

The sun is shining and soft breeze is blowing, helping to cool him slightly as it caresses his sweaty skin once he gets outside. It’s pleasant. He decides to forgo the car and walk to the store. 

Dean had warned him that he’s thoroughly bonded to the pack now. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t react at first. Perhaps it’s because he’s in such a splendid mood or perhaps because he’s distracted thinking about how to make a nice day out of Crowley’s homecoming.

The first sign that something isn’t as usual comes when he passes two Progressive Alphas and they both stop talking to look at him coming, smiling when he meets their gaze. “Looking good there,” one of them says while the other one whistles appreciatively. He knows they’re Progs since they live in the neighbourhood and he’s seen them before, but this is the first time either of them has given him a second glance. He smirks disinterestedly at them as he passes.

Not much further away another Alpha scents the air and turns in the direction of the breeze. He sees Dick coming and flares a brilliant golden yellow. Once Dick passes him he starts deep-purring and follows a couple of respectable steps behind. Dick almost misses a step in surprise. By now Dick’s heart starts beating faster since something is so very off. After two blocks he stops and turns around to face the Alpha who instantly holds out a bag of beef jerky and a soda can at him while raising his eyebrows in question. He smells faintly of arousal and has a neutral scent that is neither nice nor off-putting. Dick shakes his head. “No.”

The Alpha makes a disappointed noise and stops his deep-purring, but bends his head in acceptance. “Alright. Have a nice day,” he says and gives a little wave as he turns to walk back from whence he came.

Dick turns and keeps walking at a brisker pace with a hammering heart. He passes two more Alphas that flare and deep-purr for him before it hits him like a thunderclap. 

They are reacting to the scent of Heat.

Dean wasn't in Heat, _he is_.

He sniffs himself. Sure, he can smell both Dean and the pack bond strongly, and intermixed with that an unfamiliar, lovely scent that can't be anything but _himself_. 

It feels like someone ripped the carpet from under his feet. A grandfatherly Alpha passes by and rumbles soothingly in response to his sudden distress despite his outwardly calm exterior which only serves to agitate him more. There's this growing feeling of dread. He passes a kit whose scent turns distressed and fearful in response to his mounting panic. An adult freaking out is cause for alarm to a kit. The mother sniffs the air once and looks at his outward appearance, taking in the quality of his clothes. “Are you alright, Sir?” she asks with deferential concern while making a soothing sound for her kit.

“I’m fine, dear,” Dick answers with a pleasant smile. The woman isn’t convinced and looks at him with sympathetic worry. He doesn’t stick around to assure her.

He walks briskly to hide in an alley without people. His heart thundering in his chest. There he stops, takes up his phone and hits a speed dial number. He doesn’t wait for a ‘hello’ when the line opens. “Sebastian! Are you at the clinic? Something’s happened.”

“I’m not. But I can be there in 30. Maggie’s working so you can head right in.”

Dick hangs up without a goodbye, turns on his heel and runs.

* * *

Sebastian’s clinic lies in a separate building behind the main hospital. It happens that Dick marvels at how he’d influenced someone’s career so completely when he nears the treatment center for scentlessness. Seb sees all manner of scentless patients, from small kits to adults. He’s managed to seek out two Juvies with the same condition as Dick, and both had not responded to treatment except for feeling better in general, just like Dick. Both presented as Alphas and suddenly keeping them alive had gotten a lot harder. They had frequent close calls like the one Dick had when he tried suppressants. Both came from very poor conditions and Seb funded their treatment, living, and education. Many saw it as altruism. Dick knows better. They’re advanced lab rats, just like him. Sebastian is driven by a need to be admired by people, to be better than others. His research has made him a big name within medicine and he sees to that the two scentless Alphas’ needs are cared for to monopolise them as his test subjects. That his motive is selfish doesn’t matter, though. It’s a symbiotic relationship. Dick once detested Sebastian because of his conceited know-it-all ways. Those days are long gone. These days he holds strong affection for the ambitious doctor. Over a decade of being lovers will do that to you.

Maggie, Sebastian’s elderly nurse and assistant, looks up from her computer when Dick enters. She scents in his direction and her eyes go wide. “Richard!” She exclaims, smile breaking out on her face. “Oh, this is wonderful,” she says and comes out from behind her desk. She catches him and pulls him in for a hug. She smells of excitement and happiness. He should too, but the panic won’t go away. She lets go and holds him around the elbows beaming up at him. “When the good doctor called we thought something bad had happened. I was prepared to put you on life support. But look at you! This is a marvel! Come along now. The good doctor will want all your vitals taken.” ‘The good doctor’. Maggie has called Sebastian that since she started working for him more than 10 years ago. Sometimes he wonders if Maggie even remembers Sebastian's name. “Don’t worry, Richard. Everything will be alright,” she assures him, smelling his anxiety. But it won’t be. The fact that she _can_ smell his distress is proof of that.

Nevertheless, he lets her usher him into an examination room to collect samples of his blood, secretion, and slick, as well as take his temperature, blood pressure and heart rate. Then she leaves him to wait.

It only takes a few minutes before the door opens and Sebastian enters. He takes a breath and blinks in surprise at Dick, then, he flares. “By the One, you're _beautiful_ ,” he says in lieu of hello and takes deep breaths through his nose.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised about it, dear,” Dick counters with a slight, lopsided smirk, his exterior belying his internal upheaval.

Seb walks up to where he’s sitting in a visitor’s chair beside the desk. “I always imagined you’d smell pretty, but I couldn’t foresee how drop-dead gorgeous your scent is. Of course I’m surprised!” He bends down for a closer whiff so Dick bends his neck to grant better access. This is standard procedure by now. Seb scenting him meticulously every checkup before asking questions to catalogue exactly what can be surmised about Dick through scent. It normally isn’t much. That he’s an Omega, if he’s been marked up recently and if he’s currently bonded. Now, though… “Healthy, no pains or nutrient deficiency... Unmated... male Omega, acute distress... in Heat, had sex fairly recently… bonded to… unrelated male Omega?” He stands up straight to look down at Dick with a curious expression, letting his eyes take their normal colour. “Is that a pack bond?”

“You can smell that it is?”

“No. It could simply be a very strong friendship bond. I can smell that he’s had sex with you and that your bond is very strong. But given Packrunners’ affinity for curing scentlessness, statistically speaking, I’m making an educated guess.” Sebastian takes his own chair and pulls it so he’s sitting in front of Dick, bracketing Dick’s knees between his own. Then he picks a little notebook out of his breast pocket along with a pen and looks expectantly at Dick.

“We were running a scheme. The Williamses are mad about his scent. He let me siphon him to borrow his scent so I could negotiate the raise and change of office I’ve been after. In return I help him get his little brother into college.” It’s a curse and a blessing that Sebastian knows so much about him these days. Dick’s played along with Sebastian’s wish to study him over the years. Giving continuous reports about his life and emotions to go along with the physical samples collected every time he comes. He’s nowhere near as open as he is with Jeff and Crowley, but still. Sebastian knows more about him than he’s strictly comfortable with. The upside is the lack of explanations needed, like now. And Seb knows very well who the Williamses are since he went to college the same time as them. Though, Dick’s never told him about his undying crush.

“And that’s how this happened?”

Dick shakes his head.

“But he is a Packrunner?”

“Yes. He’s a Main.”

Seb hums and makes a note. “So how did it happen?”

“I…” Dick tells him. He tells him about how frequently he's been siphoning Dean, about how upset Dean was when he realized Dick's in Heat, about the courting that left him as riled up as with any Alpha. About the sex, and then, the bonding sex that followed. Seb dutifully takes notes and asks the occasional question.

“So you’re saying nobody has siphoned you before? _Ever_?” Seb asks. He reeks of excitement. To him, this is a scientific breakthrough. Even he had deemed Dick incurable.

“No. Why would they? I had no scent to entice them to.”

Seb taps his pen against his lips in thought. “True, but I still find it surprising since you’ve been mated several times. I presumed... I can’t imagining not siphoning my mate, scent or no scent… But you say Dean insisted?”

“Not insisted as such. He’s very respectful. He just asked several times.”

“Despite you telling him no?”

“I never told him no. I only asked why he’d want to. He interpreted it as a no until we had bonding sex when he demanded a straight answer, so I said yes. I feel so stupid for not noticing. If I backtrack I know I could smell Heat in the air afterwards, but I didn’t react. It didn’t catch up to me until I left the house and other people…” Dick trails off with a discontent whine.

Seb puts his hand on Dick’s thigh and caresses soothingly with his thumb. “Hey… don’t beat yourself up, baby. According to my studies, kits who’ve been born with congenital depression and are cured after a couple of years, more often than not don’t react to their own scent for hours or even days afterwards if no one else points it out. We have very little data to go by but it seems to be the norm.”

Dick still feels stupid no matter what Seb says. “So… can you fix it?” he asks instead.

“Fix it?”

“My scent. Can you make it go away?”

“You want it to go away?” Seb asks in utter confusion.

“When I panicked people made soothing noises at me and a kit got scared. How am I supposed to fool people when my scent doesn’t match my expressions? I’ve lived all my life scentless! I don’t know how to act if people can read me like an open book.” Dick’s started to get agitated again. He can smell his own anxiety.

“Oh…” Seb leans back with a bewildered expression like the idea that someone could be anything but jubilantly happy of getting cured, hasn’t even crossed his mind. To be fair, it hadn’t crossed Dick’s mind either. Seb shakes his head. “I can’t…” He halts and his expression turns into something sly. “I can think of one way.”

“Yes.”

“We’d have to kill your new Main―” 

Dick's out of his chair leaning over Sebastian growling, eyes flaring full force, claws and fangs dropping as fast as he physically can.

Sebastian laughs nervously, licking his lips averting his head submissively. He smells of fear and excitement. “I'm not serious, kitling. Theoretically, it could work since it's currently your only scent bond and you smell strongly of it. Technically, ripping it could send you into strong enough mourning to render you scentless again. But I said it to test your pack related instinct. Very interesting. You haven't known Dean for very long. Has he done anything to earn this level of protectiveness?”

Dick slowly sinks back in the chair, heart thundering in his chest. He's more than a little jarred by his own reaction. “No… not as such.”

“I wish you were a Prog or Conservative. Then it would be easier to know exactly how much a pack bond affects your instinct. Alas, you're a Primal masquerading as a Conservative. Which brings up another point. You will either have to switch your designation to Progressive or no longer claim to be mated. Without a scent bond no Primal nor Conservative will believe or respect a spoken testament if your scent tells them you're interested. They'll respect a definite no. But a claim to a mateship without a bond won't be a deterrent.”

“My bond will be reaffirmed when my mate comes back.”

“Will it?” Seb drags a hand over his face. “We've talked about this, sweetheart. Whatever you say, I'm certain you've had wanderlust for some time. Before it took between one to three weeks for your bond to fade and we saw a clear lowering of many values when it faded. But lately your health hasn't been affected at all and how long did the bond remain this time? Three and a half day unless my memory is failing me. Chemically, everything points to wanderlust, sweet kit.”

Not many get called 'sweet kit’ by their doctor. On the other hand, not many keen in pleasure hanging from their doctor's knot biweekly. “Sebastian, I love Crowley.”

“I'm not saying that you don't. But that doesn't mean you want to stay mated to him. You have alluded to having some problems in your relationsh―”

Dick interrupts him. “Problems can be fixed.”

A hint of annoyance creeps into Sebastian’s scent even if he looks nothing but patient. “True. But you’ve had these problems for some time. You’ve given me no indication that the two of you are working to solve them. I’m sure you’ll develop a bond quickly, I’m just not sure it’s going to be a mating bond again. Especially considering that you from here on will be courted by a lot of different Alphas unlike you were before.”

“You don’t know that.”

A smirk grows on Sebastian’s lips and he lets his lemon-yellow flare bleed politely into his irises with a playful, hungry glint in his eyes. “Oh, I _know_ it, sweetheart,” he says and follows it up with a deep purr.

Dick’s heart stutters. Seb’s deep-purr is _deep_ and so low frequency it’s barely audible. But he _feels_ it. It’s like a caress along the spine and his overheated body responds on autopilot, making him leak more slick and his glands secrete. “You know we can’t do that anymore, dear? Your mate will find out this time.”

“How ‘bout one last time? You don’t think I would have kept up an affair with you if I wasn’t prepared to get caught, do you?”

Dick’s pretty sure Seb would have said he ‘did it for science’ unironically if his mate found out. That shit won’t fly now that Dick has a scent. Dick is about to tell him that when Seb goes on, interrupting him.

“Although, we need to be extra careful now or we might form a mating bond.”

That’s a startling thought. “What makes you think that?”

Sebastian gives him one of his ‘you poor, ignorant kit’ smiles and reaches out to cup his cheek. “Baby, we love each other,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

That's… not a lie. Not per se. When Dick thinks 'love’ he thinks of Crowley. He thinks of the Williams pack and of Chad and Brad. Jeff. Balt. People he's gotten to know closely and bonded with (with or without scent) out of mutual respect, loyalty and liking of their personalities. Sebastian and he don't really fall into that category. Dick doesn't like Sebastian's personality. They're bound together by need, greed, and kick-ass sex. He doesn't doubt that Sebastian would throw him under the bus to save himself if everything truly went to shit. But it would be a last resort since Dick’s the reason for his fame. And the affection that's developed between them is real. So, yes. To a degree, Dick loves Seb too. But Seb’s demonstrating his least attractive trait by being this presumptuous. He at some point decided what he felt for Dick is love, thus, to him that means it must be reciprocated. 

“And with how strong the scent attraction is between us,” Seb goes on, “it's a wonder we haven’t accidentally developed a mating bond already.” Well. To anyone else that might have been cause to suspect that maybe feelings aren’t running as high on both ends, but not to Seb.

“You weren’t feeling any scent attraction at all until today, dear,” Dick points out with a smile.

Seb waves it off. “Sure I was. Just because I can't smell it doesn't mean it isn't there. I've told you a million times that all the hormones we produce are still there even when they're covered by dissimulotonin. Therefore I would have known subconsciously that you were gorgeous the moment I rubbed my nose against your glands,” Sebastian lectures.

There are several holes in this theory or it's vastly more complicated. If you instinctively knew what the scent would tell you when it was hidden Dick would never have been able to fake wanting it when he’d had sex with a professor that shifted, back in college. He’s fairly certain his scent (if he’d had one) had turned off-putting and he had to concentrate a whole lot for his sphincter not to lock up. But maybe what your other senses told you overrode the subconscious signals? Dick had asked the professor to shift and had been willing―the driving force―up until then. They were already going at it. To the professor’s conscious mind he was having sex with a enthusiastic Omega in Heat. Biology is rarely conveniently straightforward.

Sebastian’s eyes suddenly go round and he lets go of Dick’s cheek to snap his fingers as if he’s come to a sudden realisation. “Of course! _Instinct!_ ” He exclaims and starts reeking of new-kindled excitement. “Dick, why did Dean insist on siphoning you?”

“He said he didn’t know why he wanted to. He said ‘why not?’ when I asked ‘why?’.”

“Do you remember when we met? Dr. Montgomery explained that Packrunners were rumoured to siphon scentless kits before breastfeeding. Do you remember that?”

“Uh-huh?”

“When you ask a Packrunner why they did it, they’ll either tell you to go fuck yourself or say it felt like the right thing to do. We’ve all been too abhorred by the sexual molestation the practise signifies that we haven’t done research as to why they do it. We _know_ siphoning is the key to curing scent loss and we’ve treated it by letting adults siphon others for decades, but asking a caretaker to siphon back is considered too much since they might form a bond they don’t want, right?”

Dick frowns in bemusement.

“We Conservatives and Progressives stand above our instinct and Primals are shamed to keep them down to a minimum at least in public,” Seb goes on. “The idea of Truemates is so prevalent that people don’t siphon each other just to try it out unless they’re already certain the other person is their so-called Truemate. Except Packrunners and some Primals. To them, instinct are part of who you are and they’re bound to follow impulses most people would ignore. Like getting an urge to siphon your kit before breastfeeding despite it usually being a sexual act. So when Dean insisted… It must have created some kind of feedback loop when you siphoned each other. Like a hormonal version of the all-is-well purr!” Sebastian stops his monologue to write in his notebook. “It's so obvious,” he mutters to himself. “We're so stupid. We've been letting customs go before science.” He looks up at Dick. “Haven't I always told you it's foolish to let customs and beliefs go before science?”

“You have. That's what makes you a bad Conservative.”

Seb smirks lopsidedly without looking up from his notes. “But a great doctor. We might have saved Kent and Yussuf’s lives today, babe.”

“And you think you can find volunteers for it despite the bonding risk?”

“If I can't I'll do it myself.”

“Your mate won't like that.”

Now, Seb looks up. “There's such a thing as a soft fade. She knows I'm mated with my work first and foremost.”

“And if she insists on a hard fade?” Seb’s a Conservative. He believes in One True God. But there’s where his faith ends. He thinks the scripture is written by ignorant fools and that it should be updated according to how science dispelled old ideas. Belief is supposed to fill out the blanks of the unknown, not erase hard facts, according to him. Dick agrees. Still, he’d expected Seb’s mate to be one of those timid, repressed Conservative Omegas. Over the years Dick’s met both Seb’s mate and mother, and he couldn’t have been more wrong. Both are incredible dominant, strong women. More often than not Seb folds like a leaf when he and his mate argue. But not when it came to his work. She believed in God’s decree of Truemates, Seb did not since biological speaking humans are designed to have several mates. To him, she’s just a woman he loves and that he wants to come home to on a daily basis. He doesn’t care if she gets knotted by others. She believed he’s The One and that they should never be with anyone else because ‘it’s against God’s will’. 

“Then you'd take care of me,” Seb naturally assumes with a dismissive shrug.

Dick _would_. All the times Sebastian has dropped everything to come to his aid―starting with the time in college Dick nearly died―saw to that. It still irks Dick. Sebastian states things as irrefutable facts too often and it annoys Dick how often he's right. For the first time ever Dick's annoyance translates into his scent.

Seb looks taken aback, and suddenly he has a trace of anxiety in his scent. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, I would, dear. But I’m currently more concerned with the here and now.” 

The uncharacteristic tell of uncertainty in Seb’s scent fades as quickly as it came. He puts his notebook away and leans forward to rest his hands on Dick’s thighs. He smiles softly, yellow eyes serious. “Babe, the only way I can think of to remove your scent again is emotional trauma at a level I think you’ve had enough of in your life. It’s not an option. There are scent blockers but we still don’t know how to produce ones that’ll last very long. Not to mention how insanely expensive and _illegal_ they are. I hadn’t thought about the possibility that you’d be anything but overjoyed if you ever got your scent unlocked. But I get where you’re coming from. It makes perfect sense. You’ve adapted to survive without a scent and learned to live by another set of rules and suddenly you’re a full part of society―”

“I’ve always been a full part of society.” Dick’s anxiety is on the rise again. The beginning of panic clawing inside his chest.

Seb gives him another one of his patented ‘you poor, ignorant kit’ smiles. “No. You really haven’t. Believe me. But you are now. So here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to search out a good therapist for you. For obvious reasons there are no one specializing in the problems that come with suddenly regaining your scent midway through life since your kind usually don’t survive. But I'll look around for someone who has enough brain cells to grasp the issue at hand. This will take a few days. Unless you want to talk to me, but… as much as I want to know every little detail of how you're experiencing things, I would not recommend that due to my bias. Also, if you're still interested in taking suppressants we can make another try at it. I think it'll be safe but I still like to monitor you for the first weeks, though.”

“I thought you liked my Heats,” Dick jokes.

“My preference has no bearing on your comfort, sweetheart,” Seb chastises. And this is something Dick likes and respects in Seb. The man might be unscrupulous and have questionable ethics, but when it came to his patients he adapted to suit their needs and wishes. “But first thing first. People will react strongly to your scent now when you're in Heat. I guess you find it a bit overwhelming? So I suggest you let me take you somewhere secluded where you can get used to your new situation. As a bonus we can fuck like dogs,” Seb suggests with a grin and a cheeky wink.

Before Dick has a chance to answer there's a knock on the door and Maggie pokes her head in with a radiant smile and misty eyes. “Doctor, the first test results are in.” She redirects her smile to Dick. “Richard, in all the time I've known you your values have never been as good as now. Congratulations!”

“Are you crying, dear?” Dick asks.

“I'm sorry, Richard. You must forgive my bleeding heart. I'm just so happy for you,” she beams at him and comes into the room to give the results to Seb before waving goodbye and skipping out again. Sebastian reads. When he looks up his scent is saturated with thrilled excitement and happiness. Instead of saying anything he grabs Dick by the collar and pulls him in for a kiss. A real, Prog-kiss with tongue and everything. Sebastian has done that maybe 7 or 8 times over the years. It's jarring - a shock to the system. Dick reciprocates on autopilot. He remembers back before he got mated to Crowley; back then Jeff had taught him to like it and Mike had cemented the preference. But Crowley is like most people. To him it’s an extremely intimate gesture and they only kissed during lovemaking, especially while reaffirming their bond. It’s gone back to being a weird thing that you just don’t do willy nilly.

Seb reluctantly tears himself away. ”We can look through your tests when all the results have come. Let's get out of here and I'll help you prepare for people’s reactions to your scent.”

* * *

They leave the clinic. Walking over the parking lot Seb puts an arm around Dick. When they’re about to pass a group of people Dick’s gut starts to churn and Seb―uncharacteristically―drops fangs and flares, baring his teeth in a smile towards the group. Aggression spikes sharply in his scent. All of them lick their lips and avert their faces in submission while Seb and Dick pass.

“I can handle myself, dear,” Dick points out.

“I know you can, sweetheart,” Seb answers and says nothing more about it. And yet he again bares his teeth in a threatening smile as they pass two other people. Dick’s secretly grateful. Seb isn’t growling like a Primal would, but the behaviour is more Primal than the average Conservative would display in public. And Dick, pushing closer, not meeting the gaze of anyone, is acting more Conservative than usual by letting Seb take responsibility for him.

He’s expecting to be led to Seb’s sedan but they bypass it to enter the indoor parking garage under the main hospital building. There they enter an elevator to take them to a floor you need a key to reach. They go down to the lowest part where only doctors, scientists, and surgeons are allowed to park. Seb takes him to a red Corvette convertible gleaming where it catches the fluorescent light.

“Oh my. You know, with your knot size and good looks you don’t need a car like this,” Dick jokes with a small smile.

Seb chuckles. “I like the wind in my hair and how it stings the eyes of my less fortunate colleagues,” he admits with a grin and a wink. Dick gives him a flat, unimpressed look but his pleased scent gives away what he really feels about Seb’s pettiness. Seb chuckles again when he smells it. “We're taking this car to minimize your scent,” he explains and holds the door open for Dick to get in. “I'm taking you to my vacation house on Long island. You're getting a crash course in how to use your scent. If you have balls enough to face Crowley with the scent of sex lingering we'll fuck like dogs and talk. If you're more spineless than I take you for we'll just talk.” Seb makes a trilling noise of delight when the burst of Dick's annoyance hits his nostrils. He gets behind the wheel and leans over to land a quick kiss on Dick's lips. “I'm joking. I know you've got more cojones than most people put together, sweet-kit.” Dick buckles up and Seb starts the car. He keeps talking while they drive. “The weather is nice so you can learn to relate to your scent both indoors and outdoors. People you've known all your life will start behaving differently towards you now. It's inevitable. On the plus side, people who've never given you the respect you deserve will start doing so now. You smell immensely prosperous.”

Prosperous is the definition of a combination of scents. It encompasses your general health, that you're well fed, well rested, content with life in general. But it’s the underlying scent of these things over a longer period of time. As such, acute hunger, a cold, or a few nights of sleeplessness wouldn't change the 'prosperity’ of your scent. It also means that someone rich whose discontent with life will smell less prosperous than a poor person living a good life. To Primals the long-term base scent is the most important. Conservatives put a lot of stock in it too, but not as much as they do in riches and appearance. It makes sense based on the habits of the different groups.

Even if Sebastian is right and Dick's got wanderlust it wouldn't translate into his scent since he's content with his life in general.

“I _am_ immensely prosperous,” Dick points out. “I was born to a homeless couple in the slums. You can't reach much higher than I have.”

“True.”

“Crowley thinks I should retire,” Dick divulges and looks out of the open side window, resting his elbow over the car door. They're driving slow enough to keep up a conversation despite the wind. The inner city traffic sees to that.

“He wants to have a kit?”

“No.”

Seb throws a thoughtful glance at Dick before refocusing on the road. “I know you’ve told me the two of you are pretending to be a Conservative couple, but has it ever occurred to you that Crowley might actually not be pretending?”

“He doesn’t give a shit about what some God might or might not have decreed, Seb,” Dick says, scowling at a random motorist they pass.

“Neither do I, because I don’t believe God had anything to do with the scripture. We’ve both read history so we both know that the scripture was popularised during a time when the values and way of living was the best survival strategy in many places. And I agree with a lot of things to do with the Conservative way of life. Not everything, of course. The Truemate bullshit is more a power grab if you ask me. We’re not designed to have one mate and certainly not one single sex partner through life. In some Conservative circles an Omega is deemed too old to get mated and have kits once they hit 25. It’s absurd and puts a great pressure on the Os to settle down quickly after they’ve presented. Especially since they’re taught that sex with anyone except their Truemate is wrong, no matter what science has to say about it.”

Dick frowns in bemusement and turns his head to look at Seb. “It’s not that uncommon to present that late. How are they thinking?”

“It’s not that uncommon, no, but most people present around 18 to 22. And if you get mated and knocked up by the first guy that knots you, the risk of you getting wanderlust even under the worst of circumstances are slim since you don’t know anything else. Plus, most Alphas would never leave their kits or pregnant mate. The pair is properly tied together by ignorance of the alternative. But if nature is allowed to run its course and you try out several partners as well as accept polite knottings when you need it, wanderlust kicks in when you’re not satisfied. The idea that an O needs an Alpha to take care of them even makes sense if you look at it from the perspective of a newly presented pregnant Omega. It’s not healthy to have a kit when you’re barely more than a Juvie yourself. And not healthy to have too many kits either. Ideally, from a purely physiological point of view, we’re designed to have _one_ kit when we’re between the age of 30 to 50. If we have more than one we’re supposed to wait five to ten years before we have our next. Our bodies _need_ the rest. All morphological species have the same problem. Produce too many offspring within too short of a timespan and you risk going belly up.”

Sebastian loves the sound of his own voice. Probe him with a sentence or question and he can go on and on. Often what he says is interesting. It’s his attitude that rubs Dick the wrong way. In this case, though, he finds it mostly interesting. He didn’t know this. He suspects it’s the Conservative bias that erases this from basic education and that you’d have to actually choose to study medicine to be partial to this. “So… if you’d to have four kits within a ten year period…?” he asks, thinking of the Williams family.

“I’d say congratulations if you survive it.”

Charles Shurley hadn’t. 

“But packs are known to have several young kits at once.”

“Rarely by the same Omega. It’s not uncommon for several Omegas in the same pack to get their kits at the same time or within a year or two of each other. Look, this is all statistics. Many, many families manage to have several kits without the Omega dying, but it’s incredibly taxing on the body and that’s why it’s so common for Omegas to die giving birth to their third or fourth kit, sometimes already their second.”

“But we’re a very adaptive species. Shouldn’t we’ve developed a counter for this?” Dick argues. It _is_ common knowledge that many Omegas die due to complications following birth. But not the whys or hows.

“We have.” Sebastian throws him another look. “We call them Progs. Or rather, these days, when referring to the ones whose morph cells have gone dormant, Betas.”

Dick draws breath to speak, but stops himself. That the Progs are branching off from the species family tree he knew already. But somehow he hadn’t expected this.

Sebastian, as he’s wont to do, fills the silence. “The Progs whose morph cells go dormant and lose their primal senses get a lot more resilient in many ways. They have been known to give birth to many kits, one a year and sometimes even twins, without any complications and only the stress of raising big families. They don’t get bond-loss depression because they no longer form scent bonds. They’ve traded the ability to shift as well as worse sense of smell, hearing, and vision, for an ability to thrive alone and in environments we can’t cope with. But they live much shorter lives than us. It’s not unusual for them to die as early as 65 or 70 while we have a lifespan of around 100 to 120. And that’s just counting us Americans. There are unconfirmed theories that some primitive species lived for hundreds of years. But there’s a Polynesian tribe where the average lifespan is around 200. It’s hard to tell because all the wars have skewed statistics. Bottomline is, the Betas, their bodies give out and they age faster.”

There Seb goes again, telling Dick things he already knows just to enjoy the sound of his own voice. “But we’re still interbreedable,” Dick states.

“Oh yes. But then again, we’re interbreedable with wolfcats too.” 

“Are we really? I thought that was just talk.”

Seb shakes his head. “Nope. Betas aren’t, but we are. Theoretically speaking. I’ve never heard of anyone who’s done the do with a wolfcat.” He chuckles and shakes his head again.

Dick thinks of the shifting professor and shivers in disgust.

* * *

Seb unlocks the door to the beach house and steps aside. “Welcome. Make yourself at home.”

They’re on the part of Long Island that’s a playground for the very rich. This whole half of Long Island is gated off and guarded by licenced, armed guards and the surrounding waters are regularly patrolled. Back in the days a lot of the rich families lived out here but since then those with jobs in New York have chosen to move there after the war. Passing through the bombed out slum parts around the Pyre is dangerous and not something a wise person would choose to do on a daily basis. Dick knows the Williams pack still have their estate inland here somewhere, complete with a skeletal staff to make sure they could pop by whenever they feel like it. Seb’s house, on the other hand, is waterfront property right on the sandy beach, surrounded by patchy tufts of grass and with a long wooden landing leading down to the water. It’s a white one storey house with a deck facing the ocean. It’s small compared to many of the houses around here but a castle compared to most inner city apartments.

Dick steps inside and looks around. All the windows face towards the sea. There’s a fireplace and a couch facing it, dining room table, open plan kitchen, bookcases and a couple of doors in the back. The faint scent of Seb, his mate and their kits linger on everything. 

“Bedrooms, office, and bathroom’s in the back. The kits’ room is there, and the master’s in there, the office connected to it. The middle door is the bathroom,” Seb explains leaning on the doorpost while pointing. “When I say make yourself at home I mean you’re allowed to mark the house up as you please,” he adds.

Dick sucks in a surprised breath and turns around to look at him.

Seb flares and smirks lopsidedly meeting his gaze, when he speaks Dick can see he’s teething his canines. “Your scent is a tool, baby. Up until now you haven’t been able to use it so we’re going to get you a bit more used to using it.”

“Your mate won’t like that.”

“No, she won’t,” Seb agrees.

Marking someone else’s stuff is a form of challenge. Dick considers if he could take Seb’s mate in a fight and almost laughs. She’s badass, but she’s not a fighter. He rubs his neck to get some secretion on his hand then walks up to the couch to drags his fingers over the backrest. He bends down to sniff it. It awakens something inside of him. Something terrified and exhilarated.

“Most people learn to relate to their own scent as little kits already,” Seb points out needlessly. “By the time we present and start reacting different to other people’s scents, and more importantly, other people react different to ours, we’re very familiar with our scent and how it works. I know you know how scent works. But not how _your_ scent works. Smell yourself and smell the marking you left again,” he instructs. 

Dick does as he’s told and discovers something he certainly hasn’t reflected on before. He can smell both his anxiety and annoyance on himself but not on the marking. The marking only tells him that he’s a prosperous, unmated Omega in Heat. “Huh.”

“You smell the difference?”

“I do.”

“The trace of your Heat will fade from your mark within a day but the rest takes a lot longer to fade.”

“Why?” Dick asks but answers the question before Seb can say anything. “Because a Heat is a temporary state and I might want to attract Alphas.”

“Exactly. Extreme emotions can also stick to a mark, but rarely. Pure terror or rage for an instance.”

“I can’t remember ever having smelled that on a mark.”

“No. Like I said. Rarely. But our emotions may stick to the scent trail we leave hanging in the air behind us. I bet you’ve smelled if someone is distressed or happy before they come into view?”

Dick nods. Seb asks him to do things, mark things, and explains the things while Dick follows instructions. These are all things he’s seen others do, and sometimes done himself despite it being useless. But he’s trained his whole life to ignore his own instinctual impulses concerning scent so basic as it might be, it’s a useful lesson. Seb asks him to claim him, so Dick does, rubbing his temple and neck glands shamelessly against Seb like Mike did to him their first meeting. It turns the both of them on and makes them feel contentment. Seb reciprocates, claiming Dick back and suddenly it makes sense why Peter always forced Dick to rub back. Seb explains for the millionth time that scentless or not, the same chemicals and hormones are there and that’s what causes the needy feel-good experience. Dick knew about the hormones, but now he can detect a tiny change in his scent while he does it. Seb chose a good place to do this on. The inner city has a billion active scents all at once, out here it’s just a few - easy to catalogue and dismiss to focus on other scents. Even the house is perfect since it hasn’t been used for a while and therefore only had lingering traces of scents.

The sex―because of course they have sex―is better. Dick can’t pinpoint why, but it is.

A few hours later finds them lying sated outdoors in a big hammock wrapped around each other naked as the day they were born, drowsily enjoying the sun. Sebastian suddenly chuckles without opening his eyes. “It’s not a mating bond, but I’ll take it.”

Dick sniffs and realises that he can smell a bond on both of them. It’s a friendship bond. It surprises him a bit since he never felt very close to Sebastian. On the other hand he's been siphoning the guy for more than a decade and it's easier to form bonds without dissimulotonin working to cover up scent up. “Were you hoping for a mating bond?”

“What? Oh no. That would have been a hassle.” Seb huffs a little laugh.

Dick sniggers, imagining Seb trying to pass off a mating bond as ‘for science’. They lie in comfortable silence for another minute, a faint sea breeze cooling them while the sun burns pleasantly.

“Jenny wants another kit,” Seb tells him.

“Really? With you? You have zero paternal instinct.”

“Nobody's perfect,” Seb agrees. “I love my kits and cherish my time with them when I'm around. But then I get a work call or an idea and… well. I've missed a lot of their important waypoints in life and I can't feel regret about it even when I try.”

“Narcissistic psychopath,” Dick states with a smirk quirking one corner of his lips.

“I’m not violent.”

“No. But a neuroscientist who studied serial killers was looking for a pattern in their brain scans and found a lower activity in certain areas of the frontal lobe dealing with morals and empathy. He had normal brains to compare them to - his, amongst others. That’s how he discovered that he fit the pattern too. He had no violent tendencies but on the other hand he rarely felt guilt and had no problem being separated from his family for long periods of time, unlike they, who missed the hell out of him. Psychopath doesn’t have to mean murderous lunatic. I think, perhaps, many scientists would fit the bill and that’s how they can devote so much time to their interest without breaking stride no matter what happens in their life.”

“Hmm. So… some kind of superpower then,” Seb jokes making Dick laugh silently.

“I think that if that’s how you see it, you probably fit the bill,” Dick decides. “So back to the topic at hand. What did you answer your mate? I remember how pissed you were when she got pregnant a second time.”

Seb growls, scent turning sour with discontent for a second. “Dick. She’d stuck needles through the condoms to get her will through when I explicitly said no. Of course I was pissed.” The discontent dissipates and is traded for the much more pleasant smell that they’ve been wrapped in for the last hours. “I said she could have all the kits she wants. Just not with me.”

Dick cackles spitefully and looks at Seb. “How are you going to prevent her from doing the same thing twice?”

Seb opens his eyes and runs his fingers lightly over Dick’s back. He’s still flaring, lemon-y glow getting stronger even in daylight. He smirks superiourily. “Sweetheart, what do you think?”

Dick blinks in surprise. “You mean…?”

“Yes, I’ve stopped having sex with her. Haven’t knotted her once since she mentioned new kits. And don’t worry, she’s never had access to the condoms I use with you.”

“And here I was, thinking you were a knothead…”

“Because I sleep with you? No. I’ve only been with you and Jenny the last decade. Not counting that poor woman on the airport whose Heat symptoms where so bad all she could do was sit and pant for air. I don’t care what Jenny says. If someone is suffering that bad of course I’ll say ‘Here. Have an apple and jump on.’”

Dick laughs again. He can barely remember when he felt this happy and content before. “Sometimes it surprises me Jenny hasn’t left you.”

“Sometimes I wish she would. It was love at first whiff for us, but… it’s not really ideal for either of us anymore. Did I ever tell you I got mated within a week of presenting?”

“No. You did not. Your first Rut?”

Seb shakes his head. “No. I’ve been on suppressants since the day I woke up with no trace of my Juvie scent left. Never had a Rut. Jenny was having her second Heat and had never been knotted. I was 17 and she was 21.”

“17? That’s pretty early.”

“Mhm. But the first years were great. Our parents approved and we moved in together. She got a job as a secretary and I went on to study medicine at college. We only had one issue and that was monogamy. It’s not a big deal to me. I don’t know how many times I’ve told her we’re designed to have sex with many people. It's not something sacred - it's a social device. She’d always counter that the One God had declared that we shouldn’t and I’d end up shouting at her that she’s mated to me, not to God. But I ended up folding in the end since I wanted to be with her.”

“So… you've only been with three Omegas?”

Seb sniggers. “God, no. Have you seen me? Os have been throwing themselves at me since I presented. And since I'd already read about what knotting does to your body I was rather active the first two years before I folded. I tried to encourage Jenny too but God's word has always been more important to her than mine. I think it's stupid. It's not like I'm not aware of the tension between her and our Residential Concierge. I think she's foolish to resist that attraction. I wouldn't even be mad if I came home to find them mated. But since she's so devout she considers him below her station despite him smelling so prosperous.”

“You wouldn't care if she got mated to someone else?”

Seb heaves a sigh. “No. I want her to be happy. I just wish it wasn’t on the expense of my happiness. Before we even slept together she knew how important science is for me and that I was en route to become a doctor. We’re not Primals, we’d actually _talked_ before I bedded her. But she keeps trying to change me.”

“Hey… what made you want to become a doctor in the first place? You never told me that.”

“You ever wondered why people are so dumb and thought there must be a biological reason for it? I figured, if it was, it should be possible to do something about it.”

“You went into medicine to try to cure stupidity?” Dick has a giggle fit. “How’s that working out for you?”

Seb sniggers. “Not very well. I guess I’ll have to settle for solving the riddle of how to cure congenital depression in adults.”

Late night they come home after a long day of talking and fucking. They swing by Seb’s office first to look at all the lab results and Dick gets to see black on white how much the continuous production of dissimulotonin has really been working against him. His values have never been this good before. Seb stops by a 24-hour convenience store to let Dick do the shopping he went out to get done. The checkout clerk, a young Omega, has never given Dick more than dutiful disinterest before but now she’s chipper and deferential. Dick somehow hadn’t expected Omegas to treat him differently just because they can smell him but lo and behold. A part of him hates it. He’s the same person he was last week, after all. He’d thought he was over the bitterness of being invisible. He isn’t. In a fit of pettiness he scent marks the entrance to the store when he leaves. Seb sees it and sniggers at the temerity all the way to Dick’s apartment. There he gets out to open the door for Dick and boxes him in against the car’s side. He leans in and gives Dick a tender kiss that surprises Dick because it makes his belly swoop and his heart flutter. Seb must have felt it too because for a long minute he just stands there looking into Dick’s eyes with an expression of what-the-fuck-just-happened before he finds his words again. “So… this is it. Now I’m going to go home and have the fight of the century with Jenny. ...Unless you want me to come up with you?”

Dick’s tempted to say yes. “No, dear. It’ll lead to more problems than either of us have bargained for.”

Seb nods and rests his forehead against Dick’s. “I want you to know that even if this was the last time you let me be with you like this… despite the fight it’ll cause… it’s been worth it. You’re worth it.”

There it is again. The fluttering of a nervous heart. “You’ve been uncharacteristically forthcoming and personal today,” Dick concludes instead of addressing the sudden feeling of intimacy between them.

“Mh. I told you people you’ve known all your life will act different towards you now. I’m not excluded from that I’m afraid.”

Dick doesn’t answer. He gives into the impulse to steal another kiss that leaves them both standing with their eyes closed sharing breath a long moment afterwards. Sebastian is such a handsome man. He keeps in shape out of vanity. Tall, broad shoulders, strong jaw and chin dimple, thick lashes and dark hair. At this point in time Dick knows that if he wanted to pry Seb loose from his mate and keep him for himself, he could. He’s never considered Seb an option before but now he entertains the thought. It wouldn’t work out. Dick’s too needy and like Seb said, he’s mated to his work. They’d be having the same problems as they currently got with their present mates. But for a brief moment he still considers it. Then he sighs softly and leans back. Seb opens his eyes. “I’ll get on trying to find a fitting therapist first thing in the morning. I promise. And would you do me the favour of text me any thoughts and observations you make about your own scent? No matter how silly they might seem to you. You’re still unique in gaining your scent so late in life and it might not only help people like you, but be a precedent that may help others if any of my colleagues ever manage to find a cure for noseblindness.”

One last kiss goodbye and Dick leaves Seb with a strange feeling in his chest.

He feels good, content and happy. He texts Seb to tell him their friendship bond turns muted but intact after a thorough washing off. Another text to tell him that no matter how much he marks the apartment Dean’s markings remain intact just like the pack bond.

His anxiety doesn’t return until the morning when he’s in his car on the way to work. He hopes Raphael will be there. That’s the only person he can think of that won’t see him differently now…

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> From the start I was planning to let Dick discover his predicament when he arrived at work, but I realised that the angst that would bring would be ten times worse. The present isn't supposed to be that heavy in angst so I let it happen this way instead. I still wanted to showcase that even good things might be difficult to cope with when they happen. I also hope that neither Dick or Crowley come across as too much of assholes. It's hard to depict a relationship falling to pieces between two people who have just outgrown a relationship but still love each other, when you write out of a biased POV. The person you're writing will harbour bitterness and focus a lot on the negative. I love my Dick/Crowley. I like them being scheming bastards together.
> 
> But just because you work in the now doesn't mean you'll work almost 20 years down the road. It's not going to end badly for either of them, though, because...
> 
> Also, a side note on what Seb says about age and mating. Conservatives might be in majority, but age is generally not an issue in this verse. Once you've presented anyone presented is fair game no matter age. Seb's talking about very strict sub groups of Conservatives. There will be smaller villages around the country where this view is held by the majority. 
> 
> Anyway, please comment and thanks for reading. ^^ <3


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